


The Picnic on the Hill (Madoka x Homura)

by pleasetakemetoanotherworld6



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/F, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:55:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26515570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasetakemetoanotherworld6/pseuds/pleasetakemetoanotherworld6
Summary: A Madoka Kaname and Homura Akemi one shot. This was my original ship when I got into anime for the first time. I wrote all of this on a whim in one sitting so please go easy on it.
Relationships: Akemi Homura/Kaname Madoka
Kudos: 3





	The Picnic on the Hill (Madoka x Homura)

All was well. How long had it been since Homura Akemi had been able to feel this sense of peace and happiness? Years. Perhaps centuries. She didn’t know, nor did it matter to her. All that was important right now was the person whose house she was standing outside. Homura lifted a fist to knock at her door, hesitating. Could she really do this? Was it possible to finally let herself be happy? And what if Madoka didn’t really want her? After all, in her mind they had only known each other for about a week now. Homura faltered, letting her hand fall back to her side. It shook her to the core to really comprehend that Madoka barely knew her, while she had known Madoka for longer than she knew. Her life before Madoka had faded into a grey blur. Madoka was the only thing she had lived for for so long. How could she act like they were in a normal high school relationship? All of the feelings and insecurities that she had kept frozen and buried roared back into her. Who was she kidding? Who was she to even talk to Madoka? She couldn’t do anything right. This just wasn’t... Almost of its own accord, Homura’s hand jolted up and she gave three loud knocks on the door. No. She would not back down. Not now. Not ever. She had fought and cried and bled for this day. She would hold on. This was no time to give up. It felt like the moments of silence stretched on mercilessly, but finally, she heard a rustling noise and the door opened to reveal...her. Madoka. Homura’s chest tightened, and as she laid eyes on the girl, a million memories flashed into her mind. Madoka laughing. Madoka, with a bow, standing between her and the witches. Madoka hugging her. Madoka with her hands clasped onto Homura’s. Madoka bleeding. Madoka and Homura lying side by side, dying. Madoka, tears dripping down her face as she begged Homura to kill her before she transformed. Her words still echoed in Homura’s ears. Even while she was in pain, her voice shaking with sobs, she had been so full of love. Finally. You called me by my first name. I’m so… Happy. Now here she was. Alive. Safe. It didn’t feel real. They were human, both of them. They didn’t have to worry about supernatural things. Cat-like aliens didn’t approach them any longer. “Homura!” She stepped out onto the porch. As sunlight washed over her, Homura’s breath left her lungs. Madoka was so beautiful. Her pink pigtails, adorned by two ribbons, caught buttery rays as they washed over her. She was dressed in a simple white sundress, and she held a woven basket. Her eyes were so full of life, so joyful. “Madoka…” She couldn’t move. She was frozen by the angel that stood before her. Madoka stepped forward. She swung the basket over her shoulder, freeing her hands to hold both of Homura’s. They didn’t need to say anything. After a moment, Madoka brought her lips to Homura’s hand. It felt soft, and through their touch they could feel their hearts beating as one. Homura slid her arm down Madoka’s and let their fingers intertwine. They walked through the garden, down to a grassy hill that they had agreed on going to. Homura looked around with new eyes. This was a world without Walpurgisnacht, a world without witches and Kyubey and entropy. Everything was the same, and yet everything was so much more lovely. The birds and the trees and the people passing by no longer represented the cruel passage of time, the urgency of her mission, the grimness of the suffering she knew she would have to endure and witness. And the girl she walked hand in hand with was the love of her life, not just another timeline. They spread out their picnic blanket on the hill, watching children play in the park below. The sun began to set, and they spent their time mostly in silence. After all they’d been through, they did not need to speak much. They were just there with each other. After a while, Homura reached out to take her love’s hand again. “Homura.” “Yes?” “It’s finally over. You don’t have to suffer anymore. We can be together.” Tears pricked at Homura’s eyes. How can one describe the immense feeling one has in times like these? Was it even possible to? Relief was not enough. Joy was not entirely accurate. Madoka turned to her, eyes brimming with love and acceptance, and at the same time, more intense grief than anyone should have to experience. Yet they had. She leaned forward, and Homura obliged, parting her mouth and letting their lips meet. It began softly, but as they continued they began to press more urgently, more hungrily. Homura felt hot all over, and her heart thumped in her chest so hard she thought she might implode. This was all she wanted. There was nothing else but Madoka. When they separated, it took a second for each of them to get their breath back, as neither had been focused on oxygen in the heat of the moment. Homura felt herself crying. Hot tears spilled over her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She shook with sobs, clutching herself and wailing. Madoka was holding her in a second, and she clung to the girl she loved like she would never let go. “I need you Madoka,” she sobbed. “How am I supposed to go on without you?” And she could feel Madoka crying too, now, even as she stroked Homura’s hair comfortingly. “I know. But I’m here.” “You’re not here.” She pulled away, staring deep into the sad eyes looking down at her. “This isn’t real. None of it. All I wanted was to save you, Madoka. All I wanted was for us to be together. And now I’m alone.” Madoka smiled, not bothering to wipe away her tears. “I’m so sorry, Homura. I love you so much. I am always going to be with you.” Homura shook her head. “I don’t want it like that! I want you! I want to see you, to talk to you!” How could she have been so stupid. Of course this wasn’t real. “Madoka, I love you.” Homura Akemi woke up in her bed, cold. The picnic was no more real than Madoka from her dream. She couldn’t move for a long time. The only real thing was her tears. She reached up and wiped at her wet face.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m really sorry about this. Homura and Madoka are such a tragic story in the show and I really just wanted to express that.


End file.
